Involving Fascination and Confusion
by Secretmelody
Summary: Why is a mudblood capable of bettering him in all the things in which he is supposed to be superior? And why can't he stop staring at her! This makes a poor, puzzled little Draco...


Disclaimer: HP doesn't belong to me, otherwise I probably wouldn't be posting fanfics here… I'd go and make Dramione real… NOW.

Hi everyone, I'm a new writer on the site; I'd love some reviews, If you hate it, give me criticism, throw 'em at me, be mean! If you have ideas about how you want this to progress, I'll be open to suggestions too since I only have a rough idea~ Thank you!

**Chapter One:**

These observations were made by a certain arrogant young blond at the Slytherin table, who was putting a huge effort into concealing the fact that he was indeed sneaking secret glances at a certain curly-haired brunette from their biggest rival house.

No. Hermione Granger was not pretty. That was certainly not why Draco Malfoy was watching her so intently.

He just found her to look particularly endearing that evening. She twirled her spoon in her slender little fingers, eyes sparkling in delight upon hearing something Harry Potter had said. An entertained smile played at her lips while she tipped her head ever so slightly towards Ron Weasley, as if deciding whether to laugh or not. Precious was the way she giggled when the former option won out. He was captivated.

Suddenly, she turned her head and looked at him square in the eye, brows scrunched into a confused knot, mouth pressed into one firm line that seemed to be questioning why she was being observed. When their eyes met, he couldn't even remember to look away; he was caught off-guard. He also hadn't been paying attention to his expression—it wasn't his usual mask of scorn and malice, but one that was genuinely quizzical.

He certainly had never allowed for slip-ups like this. During his near-violent encounters with the Golden Trio, he was a good actor—superb, in fact. Ensuring that his eyes taunted, lips sneered, tongue spat, Draco perfected his act with his head tilted upward at a snobbish forty-five degree angle, leveling his chin with the others' foreheads. It was an all-round failsafe routine for infuriating the boys, with the benefit of persuasively disguising his curiosity for the girl, since surely no boy in their right mind who took interest in a girl would dare hinder his chances by angering her friends.

But no, Draco Malfoy did not fancy Hermione Granger. Really, he did not.

He simply found her to be... intriguing. Her being the most brilliant witch of her age was probably a part of it. She was a muggle-born, and this alone should render her abilities inferior to even the half-bloods, let alone the pure bloods. Yet, this was not the case with Hermione Granger, as she managed to achieve the highest marks, the bravest feats, and the strongest friendships ever known to Hogwarts. How was an impure mudblood—as his father often called them and he, upon feeling threatened due to meeting such a daring match as her, had come to call her—supposed to be capable of this level of pure intelligence, courage, and compassion? She was a mystery to him. Admittedly, he's been trying to crack her ever since they first met, and so far to no avail.

He had been staring back at Hermione with the same detached curiosity for quite a while, and only when her expression changed from puzzlement to absolute bewilderment did Draco Malfoy realize he had been spellbound for far too long a time. He decided to resort to a standard Malfoy glare, which he knew wouldn't quite make any sense after ogling like an idiot at her for what seemed like hours, but he supposed it would suffice for now. As expected, she was thrown into another mass of bafflement, and looked away because maintaining eye contact had become strange and pointless. He never stole another glance at her that evening.

Soon enough, students began exiting the Hall to return to dormitories and various other activities. He began planning his night out ad he strode leisurely to the door of the hall, since he didn't seem to have anything scheduled for once. Practice had been canceled today; he already felt out of shape not having exercised today. Maybe he could go for a work-out, a jog perhaps? After washing up, he could go to the library as usual, since he knew that was where he could observe her some more.

Draco was so caught up in his thoughts that when he neared the door he failed to see the group of three move in front of him, and proceeded to walk into the red-haired boy and caused him to drop his books.

Indignant and angry, Ron Weasley turned abruptly to see a slightly stunned face that usually scowled upon greeting him. This shocked Ron, as well as Harry Potter and Hermione, as they waited and waited for something vile and hurtful to slip out from the pale lips, but nothing came. No smirk, no sneer, no snigger, no snide comment, no nothing that began with the letter s, besides surprise, and Ron was blown away.

Draco Malfoy had again found himself in a daze for the second time in the same hour of the same day, and he vaguely remembered he bumped into someone, and looking at Weasley, a voice without his usual condescending scorn blurted a brief apology. "So sorry about that."

More gaping stares. If he had been his usual self, Draco might have laughed: the trio looked mighty intelligent at the moment.

"Uh..." Ron couldn't believe he was having a civil exchange (if "uh" counted as contributing to a conversation, that is) with the infamously wicked boy. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he forced out the words, "Th-that's quite all right."

Draco turned and glanced at Hermione, who was blinking and befuddled. As if planning to perplex everyone further, he articulated the words "Good night, Granger," and hastily left, leaving all the students and professors around them speechless.

Confused as everyone else was, even more stupefied was Draco himself. What in the name of Merlin had happened there? Malfoys did not ever freeze up and say stupid things. Malfoys have not once apologized to blood traitors. And Malfoys never admire muggle-borns. Never. He decided to scrap his library plan and fly for a bit. His crazy mind might become a bit clearer.


End file.
